


Four of a Kind

by mokuyoubi



Series: Circus 'Verse [2]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Circus, Fluff, M/M, Magical Realism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/pseuds/mokuyoubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after Brendon joins Pete's circus.  Pure fluff/porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four of a Kind

Brendon is dreaming about starting a unicorn farm with Mikeyway. Currently a debate is being held over whether or not the unicorns can fly, and if so, what sort of measures should be taken to keep them from getting out of their paddocks, which leads to the questioning of the ethics involved in keeping unicorns locked up.

Brendon mumbles something unintelligible out loud and Spencer huffs a laugh and tips his head back enough to see Brendon’s face. There’s a little pout on his mouth and a furrow between his brows, but Spencer finds that far preferable to the days when Brendon more often had nightmares than dreams and it hurt Spencer’s head to look at them. 

The bed seems really empty and Spencer feels around to confirm what the absence in his head already told him. The height of the sun in the sky, just visible from the window, confirms that it’s sometime after noon. Ryan and Jon are no doubt helping set up tents and preparing for opening. 

Brendon had offered to drive last night and since Spencer doesn’t have a show until late in the evening, he’d ridden in the cab with him, to help him stay awake. He’d done it because he likes the way Brendon drives with one hand, his free arm tucked around Spencer’s shoulder, and how when Brendon sings along with the radio all the thoughts trying to press into Spencer’s mind disappear. It’s blissful silence, when Brendon sings—nothing but his voice. The welcome side benefit is that the two of them get to sleep in while everyone else does the grunt work. 

Somehow, the argument with Mikey has turned into a dance competition and Ryan’s agreed to be Mikey’s partner. Brendon mutters under his breath and Spencer rolls over all the way so he can get his arm around Brendon’s waist. He nudges at Brendon’s cheek with his nose and says, “I’ll be your dance partner, Brendon. We’ll kick Mikey and Ryan’s skinny little asses.” 

Dream Ryan reacts to this with an arched brow and a blatantly sexual swivel of his hips against Mikey’s. Brendon reaches for Spencer, both in his dream and without, hands falling on Spencer’s hips. As amusing as all of this is, Spencer can tell Brendon is actually getting upset. Spencer has made it his solemn duty (as have Jon and Ryan) to make sure that Brendon is upset as little as possible. 

“Brendon,” Spencer whispers. He kisses Brendon’s cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Brendon, come on, wake up.” Brendon moans sleepily, clinging to the dream, and Spencer smiles. He works his way into Brendon’s dream and presses their mouths together at the same time. 

Slowly, Brendon surfaces from the dream, and it’s a strange tangle of sensation as it happens. Spencer can’t distinguish between what he’s feeling in Brendon’s dream and what he’s feeling in his own body. He can tell the moment Brendon wakes, kiss going from lazy to focused like the flip of a switch. 

“Spence,” Brendon murmurs. 

“Morning,” Spencer says back. Brendon smiles, face pushed into the pillow, eyes barely open. 

“ _Good_ morning,” Brendon says. He’s speaking in barely a whisper but Spencer can hear every word clearly as if he’s still in Brendon’s mind. “What are you doing all the way over there? I seem to recall you promising to be my dance partner.” 

Spencer feels a devious smile curl his lip and rolls Brendon beneath him, licking into Brendon’s mouth. Brendon’s hands fall lightly on Spencer’s hips, fingers tickling the skin with the gentlest touch. He teases at the waistband of Spencer’s sleep pants, nails leaving a shivery trail as he sweeps his hands inward to the drawstring holding the pants in place. 

Brendon pulls the strand and Spencer’s pants go loose and slip down a little. Brendon eases them over the curve of Spencer’s ass and Spencer helps kick them the rest the way off. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down Brendon’s jaw and nibble at his ear. “You want to fuck me?” he asks. 

Brendon shivers and shakes his head. His touch is still light when he runs his hands over Spencer’s ass. “Want you to fuck me,” Brendon says. 

Spencer slides his bare leg between Brendon’s thighs and traces his name against Brendon’s pulse, idly wondering whether the hickey there was left by Jon or Ryan—Ryan, he thinks, because Ryan leaves small marks and Jon’s are big and messy—and Brendon sighs, breathy and sexy as hell, and arches his back. 

Jon and Ryan left the lube lying on the pillow at the edge of the bed, knowing full well it would be put to use in their absence. Spencer smiles and lets his thoughts unfurl, extending past the walls of the trailer and further, until he feels Jon’s presence. He gives just the faintest nudge, along with the image of Brendon spread out, wanton and breathless. He thinks he’s got his point across, and doesn’t wait around to see the reaction. 

Spencer pours the lube over his fingers and probes between Brendon’s legs, finding his opening and pressing in three fingers at once. Brendon watches him with lazy, hooded eyes, bites his lip and lets out a low hiss. Spencer slides his fingers deeper and Brendon tilts his hips, making the glide easier. 

“’S good, Spence,” Brendon whispers and Spencer crooks his fingers. “Feels so good.” 

Brendon is always beautiful, but there’s something special about the way he looks during sex. It’s a lot like the way he gets when he’s singing. All his focus on one thing. As much as Spencer loves fucking Brendon, he’s just as happy to watch Jon or Ryan do it. They’re all so gorgeous, really, and when he’s in the middle of it, the focus of their attention, it’s difficult to truly appreciate it. 

Spencer takes his time working Brendon open and even longer than necessary, teasing him with the barest touches to his prostate, making Brendon shiver and whimper and bite hard on his lip against any loud sounds. Ryan tends to be impatient about foreplay, and Jon will indulge Spencer for a while, but Brendon will let Spencer do this as long as he wants. 

Ryan makes his presence known before he even reaches the trailer, using his own honed skills to give Spencer a flash of a fantasy or memory, Jon on his hands and knees, golden back covered in sweat, hips framed by Ryan’s long fingers as Ryan fucks him hard and slow. 

Brendon doesn’t even blink when Jon and Ryan come in. His attention doesn’t waver from Spencer, though his moans become a little showier and he moves his hips a bit more urgently against Spencer’s hand. 

“Quit torturing him, Spence,” Ryan says, tone mingled amusement and arousal. Spencer spares them a look. Jon’s just behind Ryan, watching over his shoulder, hand slipping under Ryan’s shirt to stroke his stomach. 

Spencer leans over Brendon, twisting his fingers and whispers against his neck, “Want me to stop torturing you, Bden?” He tilts his head back so he can watch Brendon’s expression. 

Brendon licks his lips and meets Spencer’s gaze. “I want you to fuck me, Spencer.” 

Spencer slips his fingers free and Brendon groans. Spencer looks between their bodies, tracing Brendon’s stretched opening with his thumb. “Spence,” Ryan says, impatient and gasps. Spencer doesn’t have to look to know that Jon’s got a hand down Ryan’s pants. 

Spencer slicks himself up and presses the head of his cock to Brendon’s ass. Brendon reaches out, brushing the tips of his fingers across Spencer’s mouth and says, “Love you,” and Spencer sinks in, all the way to his balls, in one long thrust. He lets his weight rest on his elbows, trapping Brendon’s cock between them. 

Jon moans and there’s a rustle of clothing and the whisper of hands on bare skin. Brendon gives Spencer a smile. His hands flutter down Spencer’s ribs and rest lightly on his hips, not guiding or urging, just holding. Spencer bends to kiss him and starts to move, slow thrusts, each harder than the last. 

The mattress dips with added weight. It’s big enough that they have no trouble fitting the four of them but Ryan and Jon move close, bare centimeters from touching. He could look, knows they’re touching each other, and it’s tempting. But Brendon is moving with him, kissing him like there’s nothing else in the world, and Spencer can’t bring himself to pull away. 

Brendon’s touch has been so gentle and fleeting that it’s a surprise when his grip turns rough. Spencer knows Brendon’s close, can feel it in the tension of his body, they way he keeps tightening around Spencer’s cock. Spencer trails kisses down Brendon’s throat, leaves a mark next to Ryan’s. One of Brendon’s hands fists gently in Spencer’s hair and Spencer pushes up on his hands so he can look down, watch Brendon fall apart. 

Sunlight spills through the blinds, turning the sheets a blinding white, painting Brendon’s skin half light and half shadow, makes his eyes sparkle warm golden brown. Spencer reaches between their bodies and squeezes Brendon’s cock. Brendon gasps and fucks himself back on Spencer’s cock and whispers, “Please, Spence, I need…”

Spencer runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the moisture and gets a tight grip, jerking slow and rough, in time with his thrusts. Brendon’s hand twists in Spencer’s hair, his nails dig into the sensitive flesh of Spencer’s hip, and then Brendon’s coming. 

They’ve been wrapped up in each other’s thoughts since Spencer pushed into Brendon’s dream and now it’s impossible to separate Brendon’s pleasure from his own. He thrusts in one last time and tips over the edge, hips jerking with each hot pulse. 

Brendon pulls him down for a kiss, mouths wet and messy, teeth clicking together a little at the force. “Fuck,” Brendon pants, “fuck, Spence, I love you so much.” 

Spencer chuckles and softens the kiss, slows it down. “Me too, Bren,” he says. “Me too.” 

“We all love each other,” Ryan snaps, “can _someone_ fuck me, now?” 

Brendon giggles and turns his head, pressing his cheek against Spencer’s. He reaches out to lay his palm against Ryan’s cheek and it never fails to amaze Spencer, the way Brendon’s touch can make Ryan soften instantly, like Jon’s touch can calm. It isn’t even supernatural, Brendon’s affect on him. 

Ryan leans in slowly for a kiss and Brendon meets him halfway. Spencer loves to watch them kiss. They both have such full lips, their kisses look soft. Jon’s breath is hot on Spencer’s neck and Spencer turns his head just a little, letting Jon claim a kiss. “I think you should fuck Ryan,” Spencer murmurs against Jon’s lips. 

“I—mmpfh, Brendon,” Ryan huffs, muffled, trying to pull away. Brendon holds fast. “I agree,” Ryan finally manages. 

Spencer tugs Brendon back, sliding free of Brendon’s body. Brendon gasps and rubs himself against Spencer, and let’s Spencer manhandle him onto his side, facing Jon and Ryan. Spencer curls up behind Brendon, holding him with an arm over his stomach. 

Ryan tries to pin Jon to the bed, but Jon isn’t having it. They wrestle for a minute, the mattress bouncing from their efforts, before Jon gets Ryan beneath him, trapped beneath his thighs. “So fuck me already,” Ryan grits out. 

Jon laughs and takes pity on him, barely taking the time to slick his cock. He shoves his knees between Ryan’s thighs, pushing them apart and Ryan gives the token resistance before Jon wins. When Jon thrusts in, all of Ryan’s struggling just stops and he freezes. Then Jon starts to move and Ryan whimpers, melts against him. 

The two of them crash together, fast and hard, kisses that look painful, the smack of skin on skin and Ryan twisting up to meet Jon’s every thrust. To an outsider it might be easy to miss the playfulness under it all, to miss the underlying trust and affection. 

Spencer nuzzles at Brendon’s neck, laying soft kisses there. Brendon tips his head back, giving him better access. Brendon reaches for Spencer’s hand, urging it lower on his stomach, lower still, where he’s already growing hard again, watching. Spencer grinds his own erection against Brendon’s ass. 

Ryan spares them a look and catches Jon around the neck, pulling him in to whisper. One of them, maybe both of them, make him see what they’re thinking. Brendon riding Jon’s lap, hands wandering over his own body, blush high in his cheeks, Ryan under Spencer, long limbs clinging, that look he gets in his eye that speaks of their history together and the inevitability of this. 

Jon pulls back, sitting on his heels and quirks a brow at Spencer. Spencer nods dumbly, sitting up and rolling over Brendon to take Jon’s place, settling in the cradle of Ryan’s legs. He doesn’t even have to get himself ready. He’s still slick from lube and his own come and Ryan is stretched and shiny from Jon. Spencer pushes in, shaking the bed with the force of it and Ryan groans and pulls his hair and says, “Yes, Spence, just like that.” 

Brendon giggles and they both look over to find him straddling Jon, rolling his hips. He and Jon look like children, giddy, eyes sparking and mischievous. Spencer watches them for a moment, matching the pace Brendon sets, bouncing on Jon’s lap. 

Ryan moans his approval and tugs Spencer’s attention back with the hint of nails at Spencer’s neck. Ryan can be such a bitch in bed. Spencer gives in, leaning in for a kiss, but keeps them teasing and light until Ryan is whimpering. “Spencer,” he says, “ _kiss me_ ,” and it isn’t an order any more, but a plea. 

Spencer can feel them all in his head now. Ryan the strongest, the one he’s touching and the one with his own psychic abilities, but the others, who tease at the edge of his perception always, have worked their way in. The four of them together feels so good, sometimes Spencer’s worried it will be too much, somehow. 

He makes himself hold on, even with his pleasure amplified by theirs, fucking Ryan hard and fast until Ryan bites down hard on Spencer’s lip and keens in his throat. He comes between them, cock untouched. 

Spencer picks up his pace, feels Brendon going tense, hears the little whisper of pleasure, followed by Jon’s low groan that still makes Spencer’s spine shiver. It isn’t as intense as feeling an orgasm firsthand, but when they come, it’s like a wave of bliss and contentment, washing over him. Spencer gives in, burying himself in Ryan’s body and following them over. 

Brendon’s head is pillowed on Jon’s chest and they’re watching, matching smiles of sleepy satisfaction on their faces. Ryan chuckles and Spencer feels it rumbling between their chests. “Fuck. I’m not going to be able to _walk_.” 

“You love it,” Brendon says. He disentangles himself from Jon and climbs over Spencer and Ryan to get off the bed. “I’ll fuck you later, and then you won’t be able to sit down, either.” 

Ryan moans and twists his hips against Spencer’s. Spencer pulls back because he supposes he _could_ get it up again, with the right persuasion from Ryan, but he’s a little too worn out at the moment. 

Spencer flops on the mattress between Jon and Ryan and Jon rolls closer, tossing an arm over Spencer’s stomach. “Hey,” Jon murmurs. 

“Hey,” Spencer answers, smiling and turns his head to meet Jon’s good morning kiss. With everything that has followed, Jon’s kiss is still the warmest thing in the world, still makes butterflies dance in Spencer’s belly. 

Brendon comes back and nudges at Ryan. “Move over, lazy asses,” he says, and a wet washcloth hits Spencer squarely in the chest. Jon laughs and picks it up, gently washing Spencer clean, never letting their lips part the whole while. 

When they part, long minutes later, Brendon is whispering to Ryan, their heads bent together, Ryan’s face open and pleased. Spencer could hear if he wanted to, but it seems private and it’s beautiful to watch. He wouldn’t betray them like that, anyway, even if they didn’t mind. This is between just the two of them. 

Then Brendon catches him watching and lifts his voice just enough for Spencer to hear _Mikeyway_ and _dance partner_. Ryan’s lips curl into a secret smile and he turns Brendon’s face so he can whisper something in Brendon’s ear that has Brendon blushing and giving a smile of his own. 

“Hey Spence,” Brendon says, “will you teach me your dance?” He bats his lashes in that winning way of his. 

“You’d kill yourself. Or someone else,” Spencer says. “I’m not letting you anywhere near the swords.” 

Brendon pouts. “Fine,” he says. “Just teach me with, like…scarves, or something. I can do the dance of the seven veils.” He wriggles his hips, which just looks sort of ridiculous, lying down. 

“I don’t know,” Jon says speculatively. He swipes his thumb over Spencer’s hipbone. “I think that’d be kinda hot. You and Bden dancing for us, wearing nothing but the veils, taking ‘em off one at a time…”

Spencer elbows him gently. “If you’re that eager for a striptease, you know where the girls are,” he says, but he sees the image as it paints itself in Jon’s mind. Brendon is always gorgeous, but it’s the way that Jon sees Spencer that makes his breath catch. Spencer knows he doesn’t really look that way, beautiful and exotic. “Maybe,” he whispers, which they all know means yes. 

“Hey!” Pete slams his fist against the far end of the trailer as he passes. They all jump apart in surprise. “If you’re having a gay orgy when you should be working, you could at least do it where the rest of us can appreciate the view!” 

Patrick shouts something from further away, no doubt scolding, and Pete goes off, singing a dirty limerick. Brendon blushes bright red and hides his face in Ryan’s neck muttering about how he’s never leaving the trailer again. 

It’s probably close to five, which means time to get up, have dinner, get ready for the show. Spencer levers himself out of bed and the warm tangle of limbs and he’s a little unsteady on his legs as he stumbles to the vanity. 

Ryan follows him and Spencer makes room so they can both sit on the bench. Ryan hooks an arm around Spencer’s waist and settles his chin on Spencer’s shoulder, meeting his eyes in their reflection. “I’ll do your makeup,” Ryan offers around a yawn. 

Spencer studies Ryan’s face. He looks contented, relaxed in his skin, and Spencer can’t believe that it was a year ago that Ryan was the scared, guarded boy who didn’t trust anyone but Spencer, and would have flipped out at the suggestion that he would find himself, a year later, in a relationship such as this one. 

Jon and Brendon are up now, searching through piles of clothing for what’s clean and what’s really, really not, but Ryan lets Spencer sit there silently. He presses a kiss against the side of Spencer’s neck and squeezes him closer and when Spencer says, “I love you,” Ryan smiles, soft and secret, and says it back. 


End file.
